


Blood and Blown

by MorganOfTheFey



Series: Reed900 Bonus Fics [5]
Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Biting, Blowjobs, Dirty Talk, Dom/sub, Dry Humping, Explicit Consent, FaceFucking, Light Humiliation, M/M, Marking, Master/Pet, Multiple Orgasms, Nines has psychic powers that allows him to compel people, Nines is the only valid landlord, Oral Fixation, Pet Names, Podfic Welcome, Subspace, but he specifically tries not to do that to Gavin, gagging with a tie, just a light dynamic mostly for dirty talk, references to a lot more fucked up stuff vampires do: rape murder abuse etc, references to childhood abuse, so technically a liiiitle dub-con, who also specifically states he's not being coerced so it's still explicit consent imo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-22
Updated: 2020-07-22
Packaged: 2021-03-04 20:07:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,867
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25452151
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MorganOfTheFey/pseuds/MorganOfTheFey
Summary: Gavin is a werewolf without a pack, or rent this month. He meets with his landlord and offers a lil something ~extra~ instead--and gets offered a blood bag to fill by a very repressed and socially oblivious Nines. Gavin's never wanted to fuck a vampire before, but he also hasn't met one who smells so nice and genuinely cares for his human tenants.Fortunately or unfortunately, the two turn out to be soulmates, much to both of their annoyance. Mainly Nines's, since Gavin already has a plan: angry fuck about it, then figure out all the rest in the morning!
Relationships: Upgraded Connor | RK900/Gavin Reed
Series: Reed900 Bonus Fics [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1843504
Comments: 28
Kudos: 217





	Blood and Blown

**Author's Note:**

> whomst else feels horny in this chili's tonight?? well this is THE vampire/werewolf "trading sex for rent" accidental soulmates AU for you!
> 
> quick explanation for **trigger warnings** and what's going on in the tags: Nines (and all vampires) has psychic powers that allows him to compel people with eye contact. He's super powerful in particular, but this isn't used to force or coerce Gavin into sex. They discuss / decide to fuck beforehand, when Nines is being super careful not to compel Gavin, but it does slip out a little during the actual sex. Gavin specifically states in the narrative he could shake it off if he wanted to and he doesn't feel coerced.
> 
> there's definitely still a power dynamic going on though, with Nines treating Gavin as his new pet and Gavin being more than happy to service his new owner~

It's not the first time Gavin's ever been late on rent and it probably won't be the last. Even though "late" is just a euphemism for "does not have it at all."

No one wants to hire a lone wolf without a pack, because they're "aggressive" and "mentally unstable" and maybe he has left several holes in the drywall by now, so even if he packs up and tries to find someplace cheaper, he's not getting that security deposit back.

But this isn't his first time.

So he waltzes his plump-but-firm ass down to his landlord's office for a meeting with jeans tight enough to lovingly cling to each testicle. The only time his landlord could meet him was after seven, but that suits him just fine. This sort of thing is better down at night anyway.

Gavin finds the office unlocked. Maybe Mr. Stern—and doesn't that just make the whole night feel even more like a porn intro—is expecting him.

Maybe he's just an idiot. The rent here is dirt cheap, and all the appliances work. There's not even bed bugs or water damage on the ceiling. Maybe it's a laundering operation for the human mafia. Can't be wolves, because pack or not, Gavin still would've heard of that.

He idly wonders if—nah. Mr. Stern might not show up often in person, but he responds to the message board on the site that takes rent via credit card. Hell, Mrs. McCullough posted a handwritten note on the corkboard in the lobby that she was having problems getting hot water, and a plumber swung by the very next day. 

There's not a vampire not-alive who would give a single solitary shit about that sort of thing.

The back door out of the office opens, and Mr. Stern steps inside while Gavin is in the middle of sniffing his stapler. He shoots the wolf a look that makes it clear his name is no accident.

Gavin barely resists the urge to lick up the length of the stapler before setting it down. 

"You wished to see me, Mr. Reed?"

Gavin swallows hard and reconsiders what exactly he's willing to offer here. Blowjob? Sure! But as he leans his hip against the desk and drags his eyes over the man—tall enough he has to be over six foot, black hair with blue eyes and a Roman nose—fuck, he might be willing to put out for real.

"Yeah," he manages to growl past a dry throat. "Thought I should tell you in person I'm gonna be late on rent this month."

"Are you able to pay in installments?" Stern asks.

Gavin nearly blinks in surprise. That's … surprisingly reasonable. For a landlord. Not even a mention of a late fee? And that suit—almost definitely the mafia then. Doesn't smell like gunpowder though, and he can't imagine this man is just too low in the hierarchy to have a weapon.

Shit, maybe he's too high up.

"Well." Gavin licks his lips. "I was hoping there'd be something … else … I could offer you. Sir."

Stern holds his gaze for a horrible moment as time seems to melt and drip down the back of his neck. No wait, that's sweat.

A witch? Humans sometimes pop those out, the weird little fuckers. When you can breed with anything, lots of crazy shit gets absorbed into bloodlines, and they can shit one out every nine months starting at horrifyingly young ages, so it's almost impossible to keep track.

The only thing holding them back is their own prejudice, but a particularly savvy mafia might—

Stern sighs and looks away. "Are you clean?"

Gavin's stomach clenches. His dick maybe gets a little interested too. An unfairly handsome man who looks like he keeps his control in iron shackles just barely deigning to fuck him hits so many of his kinks, he maybe should worry about it.

"Yes sir," he says instead. "Get tested every six months."

"Very well." Stern walks around his desk. "This month only. Sit."

Normally, he'd snap back after an order like that—especially that particular command—but he's distracted by the way the other man trails his fingers across the wood until they reach the stapler he'd been messing with. Stern adjusts it so it sits exactly in the same spot it was before.

Gavin takes a seat in the chair on the other side of the desk, prepared for the other man to pull out a lot of different things from the locked drawer—lube and condoms, preferably; handcuffs, maybe; camera's a deal breaker though.

He's so prepared in fact, he barely recognizes the empty blood bag and transfusion tube. When his brain finally kicks into gear, he bolts out of the chair.

"You're a vamp?" he blurts.

Stern pauses and stares at him. "Yes?"

Gavin scents the air again just to be absolutely sure. His fucking nose must be broken though, because he'd swear before judge, jury, and God that … OK, maybe this asshole does smell a little like … bleach? Something antiseptic. But it's not even as bad as a human who works in a morgue or a funeral home.

There's no way there's a vampire inside this room right now.

"You don't smell like phcking death," he bites out, anger lengthening his canines.

Gavin glares at him, but he can't decide whether he should cuss the vamp out or just turn around and leave. But …

His dick still has plenty of great ideas. Goddammit. It's—he's never met a vampire who doesn't stink. So of course he's never been attracted to one, the same way (hopefully) no one sees roadkill rotting in the ditch and thinks goddamn I wanna stick my dick in that dead bastard.

So he really doesn't know what to do with himself here.

Stern gives him that goddamn look again. "And you do not smell as if you lick your own testicles."

His dick and that look makes up his mind for him.

"Can't quite manage that," he says. "But I am flexible enough to suck my own cock."

Stern blinks at him several times in a row, like a computer throwing up multiple error messages all across the screen.

"I'd rather suck yours though."

He gives the other man—trying not to remember that's really a vampire here—his best bratty slut look.

Mr. Stern straightens up, does an about face, and exits out the back door.

Shit.

Maybe he shouldn't have said suck? Is that like … OK yeah, it's racist. He's definitely made enough jokes about it to know that.

Fuck.

***

He ended up filling the blood bag anyway, because he really didn't have rent money. The charge on his account disappeared too, and he hasn't received any angry letters or deputies demanding he clear his shit out all month either, so …

Try, try, try again, right?

His email doesn't get anything more than a confirmation of date and time for their next "meeting," but he counts it as a win. He already knew it would take work to—

And yes, after a month of his own hand and very active imagination, he's realized that he really is willing to work for it to get some vampire dick. It's not his fault Richard Stern looks like all his filthiest wet dreams come true and deeply disappointed in the porn he watches.

This time he wears black slack and a button up that he doesn't actually bother to button all the way. Either Stern will appreciate the effort or he'll have yet another reason to sneer and mock him.

Gavin steps into the office without knowing which option he's hoping for.

He gets hauled in by the front of his shirt and slammed into the nearby wall and yeah, he can work with this too. He's still got raw survival instinct though, so he gets his left hand between himself and the vampire going for his neck.

His claws really need momentum as slashing weapons, but he's certain he could still dig pretty goddamn deep into … the … strong, plump … pectoral he's gripping.

He should be going for the vamp's heart, but the whole situation is going straight to his own dick instead.

"Let. Me." Stern orders.

He's not even making eye contact, and Gavin can still feel the weight of his compulsion smothering the air in the room. This time it's the vampire popping his fangs, but he doesn't go for Gavin's throat.

Not yet, anyway.

A wary growl slips out as Gavin keeps his eyes locked firmly on the other man's jaw. Best way to watch for lunging teeth without accidentally risking eye contact—and those eyes, a blue so icy they're almost silver, last month when he'd been stupid and careless, looking right into them and mistaking it for arousal and sweat.

"Shoulder. Or … wrist," Stern says very slowly, each word deliberately enunciated around his fangs.

Gavin keeps his claws right over the vamp's heart, but he raises his right hand just as slowly as the vampire had spoken. Feeding from the neck might look all hot and sexy on TV and in porn, but he's going to need some proof of control before letting those fangs anywhere near his throat.

Stern takes his hand and flips it to expose the inside of his wrist in a way that feels weirdly … intimate?

God, there has to be something wrong with him. He's never had any problems with going out and getting fucked. There's no reason he stuck with his own hand for so long.

The same hand Stern is holding right now.

Gavin shudders and closes his eyes. It might be safer that way. He's seen the room before, knows where all the furniture is, and he's better with scent and sound anyway. He inhales, but. Still no rotting death smell. Almost the opposite really. 

The other man certainly doesn't smell alive, not like those sickly fucking sweet florals humans love to drench themselves in either, but he does smell clean. Like fresh mint and undisturbed snow.

Fuck. What is this?

Stern doesn't help his brain figure out how to work again at-goddamn-all when he laves a wide swipe across his wrist with a tongue that is disturbingly room temperature. Living creatures are supposed to be warm, but the reminder that Stern isn't either doesn't discourage his dick at all, the brave soldier.

"May I?"

Gavin squeezes his eyes shut even harder, like that might somehow help him not hear the low murmur that's currently turning his spine to liquid and his dick to iron.

Shockingly, the vampire actually waits though. No fangs piercing into him, just two men pressed up against each other and—well. One of them breathing. If Stern really does need to breathe, Gavin can't hear it happening over the sound of his own panting.

"Just phcking do—"

Stern does.

His fangs break the skin, two vertical punctures down the length of the vein in his wrist. It stings more than it really hurts because he doesn't bite again or rip out a chunk. Gavin wanted proof of control, and the vampire fucking delivers, just calmly holding his wrist in his mouth.

Then he sucks and all that control purchases a one way ticket to hell and skips the country.

Or maybe it's the soft, needy little moan Stern lets slip out. How his scent gets just that little bit stronger, teasing at Gavin's nose like burlesque music. The weight in the air doesn't feel smothering anymore so much as touching, as if the unnatural psychic presence has somehow become physical and hot and dragging across his skin.

Gavin whines as Stern sucks again and another wave of lust rolls through him—through them, the both of them. He manages to trap one thick thigh between his own legs and start a slow, dirty grind that he repeats every time Stern sucks him, until he could swear it feels like the other man is sucking his cock.

Then Stern wrenches himself away with a gasp, and Gavin's the one with a hand on his chest, pinning him back against the wall.

"Are you magicked?" Stern demands.

Gavin blinks at him and—wait shit, eye contact! He's not supposed to look into those eyes, blue like the deep underside of an iceberg and so, so cold, the only thing keeping him from burning up with how goddamn hot it is in here.

"An enchantment," the vampire continues. "Geas? … hexed?"

"I—" Gavin swallows, his tongue thick and heavy in his mouth, but probably not as good as Stern's cock would be. "Sometimes think I've been cursed. Does that count?"

Stern's lips press in on themselves. Gavin isn't sure if he's trying to hold back more snarled demands or … maybe a smile?

God, Gavin wants to make him smile.

THE FUCK?

"You," he manages to growl. "You're—eyeballing me!"

Stern blinks. It does nothing to clear the air. "As a lover, a meal, or a compulsion?"

"Yes," Gavin shouts. "All of that!"

Stern takes a step back and shuts his eyes. "I am not compelling you."

"Bullshit."

"My eyes are closed, Reed."

Gavin quickly shuts his eyes too. "So are mine!"

"Do you still feel …?"

Gavin concentrates. He knows the layout of the room, all the boring and familiar scents of a regular office—mostly carpet and printer ink—and …

Exactly where Stern is. Where his body is, how close he is, exactly how Gavin would need to move to get to him and lick his neck and rub their cheeks together, so then he'll smell clean and good, make him smell like mate.

MATE?!

Gavin groans and lets his head thunk back against the wall. "I'm cursed."

"Very well," Stern says. "Do you remember the origins of the curse? I can contact a witch who owes—"

"Not literally," Gavin snaps.

"… oh."

Stern stands with his eyes still shut, but Gavin doesn't mistake that too much for vulnerability. He can't compel without eye contact, so that's cut off at least, but vampires have even better ears than werewolves. Creepy fucking … creeps. Like bats, or a pack of humans that got trapped underground for too long and went blind and cannibalistic.

"I just meant," Gavin huffs and leans back against the wall. "My life is clearly cursed. What were you talking about?"

"I am going to open my eyes and compel you to tell the truth," Stern says.

Gavin can feel his ears flatten against his head. "About what?"

"Who sent you."

He exhales—a long groan, actually. "God. No one. I'm not playing any of your stupid vampire games."

"Then you will not mind repeating that under a compulsion."

"Fuck you."

"Opening my eyes."

Gavin sneers at him, but he doesn't look away outright. Cheekbones. That's as close as he'll get to making eye contact again. He can still see that pale, haunting blue though.

"Tell the truth," Stern commands. "Who sent you?"

"No one," Gavin grouses. "I came here to get some dick and not pay rent."

Stern bravely ignores that. "Are you working for anyone?"

"I'm unemployed, asshole."

Stern sighs and orders, "Answer the questions willingly as you know I intend them."

"I'm not working for anyone. I'm not affiliated with any vampires, witches, or humans. I got kicked out of my pack, so no wolves either. I'm only here because you're hot and—"

He cuts himself off at that last one. Too late, unfortunately. Stern cocks his head to the side.

"And?"

Gavin drops his gaze down to the vampire's chest. "… you smell good."

"You." Stern stops and swallows. "Taste good."

Gavin can't stop a small snort in time. Nice to know God has a sense of humor and they're both fucked.

"Is that all you want?" Stern asks. "Sex and money?"

"I want a mate."

Shit, the fucking truth compulsion! He wasn't even looking though, not anywhere near the vampire's eyes. Not fair!

"And am I …?" Stern says slowly.

"Fuck off," Gavin snarls at him. "It's not like you're my goddamn soulmate or anything. That's TV bullshit. It's just my physiology got a sniff of your physiology and went ooo have babies."

"We cannot," Stern tells him.

Gavin rolls his eyes. "Yeah, no shit. Lots of animals are gay though. Keeps the population in control. You want us like humans, fucking—what are they even at now? Nine billion? Twelve?"

Stern shudders and doesn't answer.

"Just because we're compatible, doesn't mean I'll never ever meet anyone else who's the same. That's why most of us are poly. We find lots of mates actually, and they usually just get added into the pack."

This time he manages to stop himself at the end of a sentence, before he says anything more about packs and mates and how he doesn't have either.

"You are my true blood," Stern says in the silence.

Gavin blinks. "Like that old TV show?"

Stern's face concaves in on itself in disgusted exasperation. Gavin's not sure if the expression makes him want to laugh and piss off the vampire more or drop to his knees and "apologize" with his mouth.

"My physiology," Stern says, each syllable sharply clipped. "Also agrees we are compatible."

First meeting, he gets offered a blood bag to fill on his own time. Second meeting—after Stern already tasted his blood from the first?—he gets shoved into the wall, damn near compelled, and fangs greedily sinking into his wrist like he's a Sonic big gulp.

"Well, shit," he says.

"Indeed."

Can a werewolf and a vampire even be … whatever the fuck they are? This has to be some sort of cosmic joke. Then again, maybe it's a good thing Stern seems to be feeling some sort of vampire equivalent.

"What's that mean for you," Gavin asks. "The true blood thing? Am I the rain-soaked damsel knocking on your castle door for shelter one stormy night who gives your lonely, wretched existence meaning?"

Stern actually breaks from his repressed British headmaster persona long enough to snort at him. 

"You certainly seem slutty enough to wander around in nothing but a chemise during a storm and expect free room and board."

Gavin lifts his hand and unpops another button on his shirt to show off more chest hair. But again, the vampire completely ignores his antics. So he goes back on the offensive.

"You're avoiding the question."

Stern's lips twist unhappily. "Your blood is much more naturally nourishing to me specifically than any other. Now my other sources will seem lesser in comparison."

"So I just introduced you to steak after centuries of eating McDonalds?" Gavin surmises.

Stern inhales specifically to let out a deep sigh directly after. What a bitch. What a tall, beautiful, prissy fucking bitch. Gavin can't wait to get him in bed and suck him off like the pillow princess he is.

"Additionally," Stern continues, ignoring what he said completely. "You should be much more receptive to my psychic presence and compulsions, so that I can more easily … obtain, your blood."

"Obtain," Gavin mocks in the vampire's sneering accent. "You're so pretentious."

"And you are a liability," Stern shoots back.

Vampires and their goddamn games. Playing and toying with the rest of the world, leaving behind broken bodies and empires. It's maybe looking like humans might come out on top after so many millennia through sheer numbers alone, but there's something about living through all those centuries and even millennia that twists vamps into sick fucking freaks who kidnap, torture, and kill anyone another vamp has genuine feelings for because they can't stand to allow anything good in the world.

"Fuck you," Gavin snarls at him nonetheless.

"At least you are not human," Stern says quietly. "And you seem capable of looking after yourself."

Gavin huffs. "Damn right."

"But you should be aware of exactly what family into which you would be …" Stern pauses and struggles for a word before admitting defeat and using, "Married."

He does look similar to a certain vampire Gavin's heard of—everyone has—but vamp families are hardly ever blood related, so that means nothing. And while ideas of beauty might change throughout ages and continents, when you're cherry-picking all the most beautiful people, vamps from the same rough place and time period tend to have a bad case of same face.

It's not that Gavin's stupid, just like not every handsome dark-haired man you see on the street is Finn Wolfhard. And if he seriously suspected the actual Finn Wolfhard was secretly his landlord, he'd be crazy.

So he says, very confidently, "Hit me."

"Arkai."

Which hits him like a piano falling from the seventh story.

Because now that Stern—he knew Richard Stern was a fake name, obviously—has said the name and Gavin is thinking of that family and looking at him while thinking of them, it's obvious.

Richard Stern is a dead fucking ringer for Connor Arkai, which can only make him …

The twins. One seen and one not, not until it's too late. The public face and the private enforcer to one of America's oldest and most notorious vampire clans, begun when Elijah Kamski turned his nanny, expecting a grateful and lifelong servant and received an entire war instead.

Amanda turned her real son next, and then the record goes fuzzy. Her second through seventh converts died from various wars and shit, but eight and nine are still going strong—obviously.

"You really call yourself Nines?" Gavin blurts out.

The other man blinks, a bad habit for a vampire to have. He's been awfully lax about eye contact this whole time, but shit. If he's a goddamn fucking Arkai, no wonder he's cocky.

"I am my mother's ninth son," he answers.

"You don't got a fucking name?"

"Amanda groomed my brother and I specifically for positions of leadership, since we were children, then turned us as adults. I have never had any other life."

"God, no wonder you seem like the world's saddest Mormon," Gavin mutters. "Are you just telling me that I'm doomed to get murdered-at-best so we should never see each other again, or are we gonna go angry fuck and then figure this shit out?"

Nines stares at him. Slightly past him actually, like he's seeing some far off future event. His gaze has been unfocused like that this whole time, but Gavin put it down to the vampire not making direct eye contact to mind-fuck him, or maybe just being kind of socially awkward.

He can't fucking imagine how goddamn weird and emotionally stunted a childhood like that must have been.

"That's your solution for this?" Nines finally demands.

Gavin shrugs. "Yeah. We can figure it out first I guess, but you look like you could shit diamonds from how tight you've been packing down stress for the last five hundred years."

"Four," Nines corrects.

"Whatever."

He does something Gavin has never seen a vampire do before—grind his teeth. It's more so back in his jaw than anything that would scrape his fangs, but the wolf still takes it as a new personal best.

"And you think." Nines lifts his hands and makes actual fucking air quotes. "Angry fucking will help my stress?"

"I think," Gavin tells him, matching his tone. "That between your true blood psychic thing, and my mating instincts trying to pack bond to you, that we're already mentally linked."

Nines doesn't answer.

"Aren't we."

Nines replaces his hands behind his back to stand at parade rest.

"Yeah, so I'm already in this shit with you, asshole," Gavin says. "And yes. I think we should fuck about it, because we're both stressed out and pissed off, you need to feed, and my bond wants us to do shit together."

"I do not need to feed," Nines says.

Gavin steals a page from his playbook and ignores him. "Do you have any other ideas for a fun bonding activity? Do you even know how to have fun?"

"Having fun is not paramount to survival," Nines says, and Gavin remembers he's the older twin. Can oldest daughter syndrome still be applied to male vampires?

"That's just sad."

Nines shows his fangs. "You are certainly making progress on one half of your plan."

Gavin smirks back at him. "Never met anyone I couldn't piss off into fucking me."

"That's just rape," Nines replies.

Gavin scowls, and the other man seems to realize what he said for the sake of a zinger. Doesn't look like social skills were paramount for survival either, but that's probably why Connor is the one living it up at fancy parties and schmoozing into politics.

Nines clears his throat. "I … have not."

"Had fun?" Gavin sneers.

"Sex."

This time it's Gavin blinking and then staring. What the fuck. What the literal, actual fuck? He's a vampire! They don't have the hormones or the pack bond, but that's never stopped them from throwing orgies and plumbing the absolute dregs of humanity for the sickest shit they could possibly find. Apparently they get bored living that long, until all that's left to do is try to shock each other with parties more depraved than the last.

Nines seems to guess part of what he's thinking. Wait, is it even guesswork if they're mentally linked somehow and also the other guy is psychic?

"I am not involved in the public, nor the social, dealings of my family," Nines tells him. "My only function at any gathering is that of an enforcer and, as such, I cannot afford to be bribed or distracted."

"You, I mean," Gavin splutters. "Clearly you get days off!"

Nines does that neat thing where he doesn't fucking answer again.

"What, do you just come down here and—and fuss over Mrs. McCullough's utility problems?"

"I have been a patron to her family for the last six generations," Nines says. "All of the humans in this building are mine. You were only allowed because she specifically vouched for …"

He stops and makes a noise halfway between a weak growl and clearing his throat.

"For what a. Nice. Young man. You are."

Gavin openly gapes at him. Yeah, he'd helped her with her groceries when he'd been skulking around, looking for cheap apartments on the wrong side of the river because he couldn't afford to live anywhere better, and this neighborhood—

A little square area of buildings not as run down. An actual grocery store in the middle of what should have been the slums. Roads that weren't falling apart.

God, shit. Of course this neighborhood had seemed better than all the rest. It's this asshole's little … sandbox. Like he's playing the Sims.

Fuck.

"I thought if you bonded to them, you might provide additional protection," Nines adds.

"I'm not your guard dog," Gavin barks.

"Did you not protect Miss Crystal when—"

"Fuck off!" Gavin scowls and resists the urge to cross his arms. "Those cops shouldn't've been harassing her."

"Yes." Nines's face goes perfectly blank. "They should have known better."

Gavin shivers from the sudden change in the room and the strange phantom sense of smelling a storm coming while still indoors.

"Yet I clearly cannot maintain a presence here at all times," Nines continues, and the pressure eases. "I have duties, and too obviously paying attention to this particular area would invite even more attempts at involving my humans in the game."

This time Gavin shivers from how he says my humans. It's not the same as a pack bond, but he's already pre-disposed to accepting a social structure where one person possessively involves themselves in all the lives of a community.

"Is this a job interview?" Gavin suddenly realizes.

Nines opens his mouth, then presses his lips together and doesn't deny it. "I … do intend to court you as well."

"Court—?" 

He can't even finish the sentence. This is like one of those paperback novels, the kind that get their titles by drawing five different buzzwords out of a fleshlight. The Billionaire Vampire's Secret Werewolf Affair.

"Baby, I am begging you to just take me home and fuck me," he says. "'Cause this shit? Everything we're saying here can be said in the afterglow."

Nines raises one perfect eyebrow. "Discussing your resume is your ideas of pillow talk? Perhaps we are mates."

"I write everything down on flashcards I can organize by date and subject, and then I color code those little bitches too."

"Truly?" Nines asks.

"Yep." Gavin pushes it. "I once transferred an Excel spreadsheet of addresses into a Word document, then formatted it to print on those little mailing stickers."

Nines honest to god bites his lower lip.

"Powerpoint. Pocket squares. Filing your taxes."

That gets a smile that's quickly tucked away a second later for a fake stern look.

"You cannot simply say business terms at me and make me aroused," Nines tells him.

"Yeah, but I made you smile," Gavin replies.

"I—well, don't look!"

Nines abruptly turns around. It won't show because he's a vampire, but Gavin can smell embarrassment as easily as the vamp can smell blood in the water, and he stalks up behind the other man.

Risking one hand on his hip doesn't get an elbow cracking into his skull. So he does the only logically thing and risks the other hand next.

"What do you think you are doing?" Nines asks, spine as stiff as his words.

Gavin presses forward and shows he's got something stiff too. He'd calmed down during their fucking TED talk with each other, but getting this close to his mate, hands on his hip and a sturdy desk right there …

"Is that supposed to impress me?" Nines snarks.

"Actually, I know there are twenty-nine types of nonprofit organizations exempt from federal income taxes." Gavin leans up. "Does that—"

He still can't reach the vampire's neck. He tries to subtly shift up on his toes, but the fucking—goddamn gangly motherfu—

Nines realizes his predicament and starts giggling.

"This isn't fucking funny!" Gavin snaps, somewhere near his shoulder blades.

Nines lets out a real laugh. "Oh, I disagree. This has been an entire comedy of errors."

Gavin hides his sulk in the back of that nice suit jacket. Makes sure to really rub his ears into it. Enjoy his shed hairs, asshole.

"How do you want me to fuck you?" Nines asks without segue.

"This century, preferably," Gavin grumbles. "And only if you uh, actually want to. I'm a big boy with two of my own hands, and I really can suck—"

"I am not opposed to the idea," Nines says quickly. "I forgot how short you are, since your presence is so large."

He rocks a little closer. "Nickname it whatever you want, baby."

"I am not creative. Connor would have a snappy comeback," Nines almost mutters the last part.

"The Snappy Comeback," Gavin declares.

Nines accidentally laughs again, cutting off the sound with a sharp click of his fangs. "Stop that."

"Mmm, fill up my mouth and make me."

"You could fill up my mouth," Nines says.

Gavin grinds again, just because he hasn't been slapped off yet. "Yeah?"

"With blood."

He stops. They both stand there in silence as they marinate in how goddamn awkward that was.

"You're right, this is funny," he finally says.

Nines pushes him back and heads for the door.

"Babe, wait!"

Nines holds it open for him. "Are you coming or not?"

"I'll come anywhere you—"

"I swear to God, Gavin."

Yes, first name basis! He knew annoying the vampire into sex would work. Gavin saunters over and makes sure to keep his ass popped for a good swat as he passes.

Nines is apparently too much of a sad virgin to take the bait, but he does follow Gavin outside. He'll take his wins where he can.

Then he gets shoved face-first into the passenger door of the black SUV parked by the door. He should know better than to underestimate any vampire, ever, no matter how nerdy they seem.

"I don't relish the idea of more commentary," Nines drawls. "On the way there. How should I gag you, darling?"

Gavin exhales sharply at the—correct—assumption that he's down to be gagged, that he'll obey, that it isn't even a question of whether it happens or not, only how.

Luckily for them, he is creative.

"Your tie."

"Stay."

Nines releases the arm he'd hiked up behind his back, but Gavin only places his palm flat against the window, hands by his head and feet held apart. He knows the drill, been on both sides of the law—now just the one side since getting fired.

Cool silk slipping smoothly around his neck cuts off that thought and all the memories. He holds still except for shivers as Nines somehow ties it perfectly from behind without even looking.

"Mouth."

He obeys that order too, letting his jaw drop open and tongue hang out hungrily. Nines pulls the end of the tie up and places it neatly on top of his tongue, no shoved wad of fabric to actually gag him.

"You'll hold onto that, won't you?" the vampire murmurs in his ear. "Show me what a gentle puppy mouth you can have."

Gavin closes his mouth with the tie inside and swallows down a whimper. It tastes clean, and the wet silk feels sinful against his tongue. No matter how much Nines washes it after this, Gavin knows he'll always be able to track his own scent on it.

"Good boy."

He's the one with hands on his hips now and unlike Nines merely allowing the position, he's already a desperate, shuddering mess.

"Is this all it takes to keep you quiet and good?"

He can feel the smirk against his neck, fangs only brushing against the tendons instead of biting down.

"Maybe we should have skipped the conversation."

Gavin groans in frustration. He wants to skip it now, and all the foreplay too, just get the other man's cock inside him—mouth or ass, he doesn't care. Nines is sexy enough all on his own that it could be a strap too. He's pretty sure it's real (not just racist smack talk) that some vamps have trouble getting it up, at least without feeding enough to get the required blood in their system.

But shit, slap his ass and call him a donor.

Nines reaches past him to press his thumb against the passenger door handle for it to unlock. Of course the rich fucker has one of those all tricked out to shit cars. Probably self-drives too.

"Get in."

***

Gavin uses all of his self-control on the drive not to fuck with the radio in the center console. Or to just start palming himself through his stupid slacks.

Nines doesn't do anything but sit there, eyes closed, like a really sexy corpse.

Vampire bastard.

(And the car is self-driving.)

They pull up at a building that looks more like a rundown warehouse than an apartment, but at least that's smart. Low key. He'd bet anything those windows are bullet proof, and the couple spots of plywood boarding up "broken" ones are reinforced with titanium or some shit behind the wood.

Sure enough, the beaten down garage door has to open up two other, way thicker doors hidden on the other side before they can pull in.

Gavin gets out on his own as soon as the car parks itself. He lopes around the other side and opens the driver door while Nines is still reanimating from whatever weird meditative state he'd sunk in. He just figured the vampire would like that door-opening shit, with all his talk of courting.

And he does get a pleased hum. He has to concentrate to stop his tail from wagging.

"Are you still holding this?"

Nines trails his fingers over Gavin's lips, then drags his jaw down to expose the tie soaked with his spit. His thumb presses in and rubs over the silk. He pulls the tie out though, and Gavin whines at the loss.

"Do you truly wish to show me your mouth?" he asks.

"Yes sir." Gavin can't resist adding, "I can actually die of old age, you know."

Nines gets out of the car and tugs on the tie. "What's that in dog years?"

Since he's already pulled Gavin close like he thinks he has the wolf on a leash, Gavin finishes moving forward and kisses him. Nines makes a startled noise beneath his mouth that he's totally going to say was a squeak. The vampire doesn't do much by way of kissing back, but it's good just to have more contact with him, at least for a few seconds.

"I see," Nines says when they part. "I will have to put your mouth to use properly."

He turns and walks away, still holding the end of the tie, forcing Gavin to scramble after him or be dragged. He'd complain, but he's really done with banter and snipping at each other.

And it's kind of hot.

The actual apartment is just as precisely laid out as the office they'd been in. Maybe even more so, because they cross through what he thinks is the living room, but then there's a second, slightly more-lived-in living room beyond that. What do you call a living room no one is actually allowed to use?

"So how do you feel about guillotines, mister landlord?" Gavin asks him.

Nines snorts. "Can you even spell guillotine?"

"Uh yeah, I'm great at spelling french words," he retorts. "I just write the stupidest letters possible, and I'm always right!"

Nines marches onward, but Gavin still catches a glimpse of his lips struggling to press together against a smile. So he keeps talking, pressing, for more more more.

"You ever done The French Chandelier?"

Nines pauses to let another door scan his thumb. "… is that a drug or a sex position?"

"Baby, if you've got weed, we can—"

"No."

Nines yanks him into the bedroom before he can reply. The bed in the middle looks like a king-sized got pregnant half another bed. And yes, it does have crimson sheets, but Gavin will admit that's probably more for blending in the stains than the aesthetic.

"Well …"

Nines lets out of the tie and moves to stand in the center of the room. There's also a nightstand and empty shelves built into the walls. A shoe rack on the wall opposite the bed, with doors to a closet that's probably bigger than Gavin's entire bedroom.

And that's it. The shoe rack is probably the most—no, the empty fucking shelves are the biggest sign of a personality.

A really lonely one.

That, and the way Nines stands at parade rest, like he's waiting to receive a grade from his headmaster and not a sloppy blowjob.

"On the bed, princess," Gavin tells him.

Nines only hesitates for a moment before he does as he's told. Gavin didn't even know vampires could do that. Then again, he probably thinks the same about wolves.

"On the edge, so I can kneel here."

Gavin moves into a spot at the end of the bed, and Nines stops up at the top, ready to climb in like he's going to sleep. He frowns and doesn't obey this time.

"You are allowed on the bed as well."

Gavin flushes, angry at how easily the vampire has read him. He's a good fuck, sure, but he's not exactly a cuddle-in-the-afterglow sort of guy. Or at least, it's been a long time since someone wanted that from him.

"You sure you want me stinking up your sheets?" he grumbles, even as he crawls onto the bed too.

"I have already let you into my office, my car, and my third favorite apartment," Nines says.

This is his third favorite? Gavin can't even imagine how depressing one hundred through four must be.

"Scoot down a little and lay back on the pillows," he says.

Nines goes back to obeying, but not without sass. "Lie. Objects lay, humans lie."

Gavin rolls his eyes. "Yeah, yeah. All humans do is breed, fuck up their children, and lie about it."

"Correct. Now what?"

Gavin kneels on top of a bed big enough for him to lay sideways and still have room left over. The vampire lying in front of him stares aimlessly at the ceiling rather than make eye contact with him, but that doesn't do a goddamn thing to detract from how inhumanly beautiful he is.

Even his moles look sexy.

"Prop up some pillows so you can watch me," he says.

Nines stares firmly above him. "That will not be necessary."

Gavin figures that's as much confirmation of what he suspects as he's going to get.

"Let me in and relax then."

Nines grinds his jaw again, all his muscles locked up like a statue in front of a firing squad. Gavin leans down on all fours. Nines somehow stiffens even further, knees drawing up slightly until he realizes Gavin's hands brace against the bed on either side of his hips without touching him.

"I'm right here, baby," Gavin says lowly. "C'mon, take a look."

He reaches out so slowly with one hand to take the other man's hand in his. The fingers twitch and jerk in quick, near-mechanical movements. He smooths his thumb over the palm, then dares to catch his cheek on the razor sharp nails so that Nines has to uncurl his fingers or cut him.

The vampire opens his hand against Gavin's face one centimeter at a time. He's not sure what he's saying, some repetition that he's here and yours and look at him until Nines's palm cups his jaw.

And those nearly-colorless blue eyes keep staring straight ahead.

Gavin dips his head down and kisses the wrist.

"Fuck."

It's Nines who breathes out the profanity, not him, and he's not sure which of them is more surprised at that. But it seems to break the ice, because then Nines is tracing over his face, his eyebrows, his nose, his lips.

Gavin lets his mouth drop open for him to explore. Nines only traces his fingers across his bottom lip, shy at first, until Gavin takes matters into his own tongue and licks them. That earns him a sharp tug on his lip in retribution.

"Behave."

He whines and shifts on his knees but tries to be good. Nines rewards him with a thumb slipped inside of his mouth, this time stroking his tongue without the tie in the way. He pants noisily around the thumb. It's not his fault he's a dog with an oral fixation.

And it's been a month.

Finally, Nines pulls his thumb back out with a shiver he can't hide. Even without any eye contact, Gavin can feel him again, that smothering weight blanketing him back down. It pushes at his shoulders and his mind, encouraging him to drop down even farther to make his mouth available where they both want it.

"Show me then," Nines orders.

The compulsion doesn't force him. He's dealt with vamps in far worse circumstances before, so he knows for a fact he could shrug it off, especially since Nines doesn't even seem to be trying to compel him.

Maybe it's a survival thing—the vampire can't see to make eye contact, so his psychic ability just compensated like an absolute motherfucker to compel everyone even remotely near him instead of being limited to one individual at a time.

That'd certainly explain why even other vampires are scared of him.

(Does anyone else even know he's blind?)

But Gavin lets that thought drop. He really doesn't want to be thinking about the intricacies of inner-community vampire politics right now. Or ever.

He sinks into the compulsion instead, letting it settle over him like a warm comforter, like the only pack bond he's ever going to get. It's not really a surprise that he finds Nines still soft when he nuzzles into the crotch of his dress pants, but he hopes he can fix that.

"You need to feed again?" he asks, making sure every syllable exhales over his dick.

"No, what I took earlier should be sufficient," Nines says. "If you can be patient."

Contrary to what the vampire might think, he can be patient. And he hears what's really being asked too, will you be patient?

"Yeah," he breathes.

He gives another quick nuzzle with his nose, then starts using his mouth. Just gentle kisses at first, slowly letting his lips press open more and more until his tongue catches against the fabric too. Even soft, there's still a gentle bulge, and enough of it for him to think "nines" might be a real name for when he finally fills out.

"You're teasing."

It almost sounds like Nines tried to complain, but his voice got too breathy to hold any heat. Gavin just presses his tongue flat against the fabric and hums his acknowledgement. He gets a twitch for his effort.

And he'd already committed himself to working for it, anyway. The tease is riling himself up as much as it is the other man, finally getting to take his sweet time licking and sucking and practically begging for it.

Then Nines lets out this gorgeous little whine, like he just couldn't hold it back any longer, and presses his hips up into the contact.

Gavin groans. "Baby, c'mere."

He guides Nines's hands into his hair and starts up the little puppy laps with even more enthusiasm. He loves licking a cock hard, even if this one is still trapped inside those damn slacks. It's making a nice line down the side of one leg though, and he laves at the tip until the fabric is soaked through.

"You—" Nines tugs at his hair, just behind his ears. "Enjoy this."

"Mmm."

Gavin doesn't bother trying for a more coherent response. He has much better uses for his mouth, like devoting it to kissing and laving directly over the head of Nines's cock. It feels circumsized—and like his hopeful estimation of length wasn't too far off.

Meanwhile, sharp nails gently scritch behind both ears juuust right, and he practically melts into it, mouth open and drooling while Nines rolls his hips into his tongue.

"Mine. You are mine."

In contrast to the command of the words, the vampire's actual tone sounds almost wondering, as if he's a little uncertain he's allowed to have something good.

Gavin whines his assent and feels his tail give an agreeable wag about it too.

"Will you lick me …" The vampire has to actually pause for breath. "Properly?"

Gavin manages to tear himself away long enough to nip at the button of the dress pants. Nines hisses at him lightly and undoes the button himself before it gets ripped off. Gavin rolls his eyes, but he helps tug pants and underwear both off in one go.

And discovers the other man is wearing both shirt and sock garters, one strapped around his thighs and the other around his calves.

"Oh, you prissy little slut," he says with approval.

Nines glares at him, surprisingly on point with his head for a blind man. "They prevent my clothes from rumpling."

He says the last word as if the very concept offends him. Gavin grins wolf-sharp and leans back down to bite one thigh garter, tugging it back just far enough to snap against pale skin. Nines gasps and automatically bares his fangs at him. Since the vampire can't see the smirk on Gavin's face, he tries to send out the smuggest thoughts and prayers possible.

At least one of his prayers get answered when Nines impatiently pulls him back down by his hair to get on mouth-level with his cock.

And what a pretty cock it is. Gavin tells him so in a coo that makes the other man blush. He wants to claw the dress shirt off too, see if he's finally got the vampire's blood pumping enough for that light dust of pink across his cheeks to spread down to his chest, if his nipples are as sweet and pink as he imagines.

"Are you just going to stare at it?" Nines asks.

Nice to know there's a real person in there, underneath all the formality and tightly held control. Maybe next time he'll push even further and see what he can really dig up.

This time, Gavin drops his head down to give a sloppy lick from his balls up to the root of his shaft. Nines inhales as sharp as the nails clenching in his hair, but he stays right there, tongue pressed against the vampire's flesh to feel his unnaturally slow pulse.

He knows how to fix that.

Long, deliberate laps up the whole length of him get Nines to shudder out a relieved sigh. Gavin hums along with him, sinking down into the simmering heat of the moment. He wants to show the other man how to feel good, to make him feel good.

He rubs both hands up and over the tops of Nines thighs when he finally licks his way up to give the head an open mouth kiss. Nines moans for the first time, a shy little sound that painfully reminds Gavin of his own cock, thick and swollen inside his stupid slacks.

"Baby," he mumbles right against the glans.

Nines releases his hair with one hand to reach down and trace over lips and cock both, Gavin pants with his tongue held out and pressed against the head, those long fingers tracing-tracing-tracing into his mouth—

He has to reach down and grab himself. Rock into his hand, fumble with the fly, let his dick slap free against his stomach.

"Mine," Nines asserts again. "I am going to …"

His fingers slip out of Gavin's mouth and trail wetly across his cheek and down to his jaw. He holds his mouth open with one hand as he pushes down on Gavin's head with the other. Gavin doesn't resist at all, eagerly sinking down onto the cock sliding so deep it hits his throat and keeps going. 

He's not some amateur with a gag reflex, obviously, but it's never been this easy to fully relax into the intrusion. It barely feels uncomfortable, and he knows it's not because Nines isn't thick enough.

"Ohhh," Nines breathes out. "Yes. Use … this mouth. Mine."

Gavin shudders, and he's pretty sure his eyes might actually roll up into his head a little. It's just so fucking good, being owned and claimed again. His nose presses into the immaculately groomed patch of hair, but even a vampire obsessed with appearances and hygiene can't scrub away their scent here, where it's the thickest.

And now Gavin is drooling all over him, marking him in return.

"So good. All for me."

Gavin suckles his agreement, tail wagging slowly, cock pulsing in his grip. Not stroking himself, not without permission, just holding it. The air so thick and warm around him, making it so easy to let go, no thoughts at all except his mouth and Nines's words.

"I will …" Nines rolls his hips and lets out another indulgent sigh. "Keep you. Own you."

Yes. He belongs here, just like this. Would sleep here, mouth full and open for his Alpha's use, whenever he wants.

"Such a good pet."

Nines's fingers trace around his lips again, stretched wide over the root of his cock. It didn't look so thick until he had it in his mouth. The obscene length of it made the look of its girth seem average, but now with his jaw already aching, he knows what a miscalculation that was.

He swallows around it a few times and breathes through his nose. As light as the vampire's scent is, he can't smell anything else right now, almost dizzy with how good his mate smells.

"I can feel …"

Nines trails off, rocking his cock deep inside Gavin's throat, too distracted to finish his thought. Gavin doesn't mind. He's here for this, to be used just like this. He can feel the mating bond growing inside his chest, warm and satisfied that he's providing for his mate.

"How much you," Nines stops and swallows thickly. "Love this. Mine. Mine, being mine to use."

Gavin hums around him, somewhere between a purr and a growl.

"Yes, I will keep you as my pet."

Nines keeps going after that, telling Gavin how he'll mark him, bite him, leave the imprints of his teeth on his around his neck and wrists and nipples, until he's red and swollen. Marks he can't hide, piercings and jewelry to show him off to all his friends at the next party.

It's everything Gavin wants, but he thinks Nines is starting to sound pretty coherent for a virgin getting his dick sucked for the first time, so he must not be doing his job right.

With that thought in mind, he pulls off Nines's cock, making sure to keep his tongue flat and dragging up the shaft the entire way. 

For all his talk of owning, Nines is a surprisingly gentle master, allowing the show of initiative. His hand only turns firm when Gavin gets all the way to the head, so that he can't pull away entirely—not that he's letting go of a cock this beautiful.

He mouths at the head, flushed pink and leaking slightly. His free hand curls around the shaft, the one not already squeezing at the base of his own dick against the knot trying to plump up there.

Nines "watches" him stroke and suck him off with his fingers again, and Gavin laps at them all the same as he practically makes out with the vampire's cock.

"Mine. My pet," Nines says roughly.

Yeah, that's what he should sound like. Gavin goes all the way down on his cock, letting it pop back into his throat again, then draws up with his tongue pressed flat before Nines can get used to either sensation. The other man lets out a broken moan and instinctively draws his knees up to get his feet planted on the bed for his next thrust up.

Gavin happily lets him take it from there. It's sloppy and uncoordinated, without any apparent rhythm as Nines switches from slow, indulgent drags to virgin-quick thrusts, just chasing his own pleasure.

But his pleasure is their pleasure, every sensation echoing back and forth through their bond until Gavin is moaning too and rutting into the sheets.

"Are you … going to come …" Nines stops and grinds his cock into the back of Gavin's throat like it's his own personal fleshlight. "From this?"

Gavin nearly does. Only his hand wrapped tight around the base of his cock stops him. He tries to moan his affirmative, but it sounds more like a strangled gargle. Luckily, Nines's answering groan sounds just as desperate.

"Show me," Nines demands.

Commands.

"Show me what a good bitch you are."

His hands drop from Gavin's hair, but the compulsion is far more powerful—not that he's complaining. He doesn't resist the command at all. He's wanted to choke himself to coming on the vampire's cock since they first met, so why shouldn't he?

He even manages to let go of his throbbing dick to place both hands on the sheets next to Nines's hips, to prove he isn't cheating.

Then he really throws himself into the blowjob.

Nines keeps his feet planted on the bed and rocks up into his mouth, but Gavin leads the show, bobbing up and down at his own brutal pace, quite literally choking himself until he's crying and gagging and so close.

"Oh, fuck."

The voice that had been so strong and commanding a moment earlier now leaves the vampire's mouth as a desperate whimper. He lets out little pants of pleasure each time he pops back into Gavin's throat, followed by the obscene slurp of him pulling back up.

Gavin tries to shoot him a pleading look for actual permission, but Nines's eyes are closed, brow furrowed, mouth slightly open as he gasps. And he wouldn't notice even if they were open.

So the werewolf concentrates as much as he can on their bond and pleads for release through that. Nines must receive some sort of feedback, because he exhales like he just took a hit of the best drug in the world.

"Keep you just for this, pet," he says. "Collar you."

Gavin can't even keep up with his own rhythm anymore, just stays flush with Nines's pelvis as he sucks and swallows around his cock like he can pull the cum out of it through sheer willpower alone. The silk sheets beneath his aching dick must be absolutely ruined.

"Beg me."

Nines holds the back of his head down, forcing him in place as he fucks Gavin's mouth.

"Beg."

That command must be close enough, because Gavin comes like he never has before, and he isn't even in a rut. It's both the best orgasm he's ever had and strangely distant, almost like he's looking down on himself from the outside.

Nines doesn't let up for a single second, and he dimly realizes with the few braincells he has left that he's feeling a small part of what the vampire is feeling, that his pleasure is only for his pleasure, like hitting the vibrate feature on a fleshlight.

Gavin lets that knowledge wash over him and accepts it, all the way down in his soul.

When he finally stops coming, he knows he could make good on his earlier promise to sleep like this. He could stay here forever, mouth and ass and knot ready for his master.

"Good pet," Nines murmurs.

Gavin cries a little more, but it's OK. He's good, he's being so good, and it's all he wants.

"Shhh, yes. You've done well enough for me to keep you."

He suckles gently in gratitude, then begins to pull up. Nines doesn't stop him, but he can feel the disappointment seep through their bond.

"Should I …?"

Nines's hand moves toward his own cock, as if Gavin would ever let him take care of himself when he has a perfectly good mouth available.

"Yours," he rasps in assurance, voice nearly shot from the harsh face fucking. "M'yours baby, s'okay."

He gives the head a few consolation kisses as he holds out his hand, up toward Nines's face. He has to drop it down and tap on his chest, making the vampire jump a little, before he realizes it's there.

"Careful?" he asks.

"I …" Nines takes his hand and brushes his thumb across his wrist. "Yes, I can be gentler. Are you—"

Gavin indignantly pushes back against the worry. He doesn't want any doubt that he's been coerced, or that he doesn't like it this rough. God, what if Nines stopped doing it?

He takes his hand back inside and quickly bites down on the pad of his thumb with his own sharp canine. Then he offers it back to the vampire.

"Sips. While I suck you."

He's not sure how much the other man can actually receive through their bond, not being a werewolf himself, but he tries to send over the general concept of what he's offering.

"Oh."

Nines takes his thumb, eyelashes fluttering at the drop of blood welling up from it. Gavin drops his head back down to mouth at his cock at the same time he presses his thumb to the vampire's bottom lip.

They both kiss each other.

Then Gavin sinks back down on his cock and Nines pulls his thumb into his mouth, and they both suck each other too. Wolves don't have any of the same problems about getting it up as vamps, and Gavin's dick has barely flagged in the meantime.

The small cut on his thumb doesn't hurt, not even with Nines's tongue prodding the flap of flesh open to draw out more blood, because every long suck he gives feeds into their bond—or psychic link, however the vampire described it—growing stronger. Gavin tries to time the bobs of his head along with it, so Nines can get blood and blown at the same time.

And Gavin's already used to sharing sensation through a pack bond, so it feels completely natural that every time he sucks or swallows around Nines's cock, he experiences a phantom sensation settle over his own dick.

Shame Nines can't keep talking though.

He makes up for it with greedy moans that have become completely unashamed, and Gavin basks in the sounds as much as he does in their shared pleasure.

He comes again, and maybe once more when Nines finally comes too, but it's impossible to separate one from the other. All he knows is he's made his mate feel good, so good, and he does too.

After he's done swallowing, he rests his cheek on Nines's thigh, fully intending to curl up and go to sleep at the foot of the bed. But the mean vampire takes his cock away, against his protests. Hadn't he been good?

"Come here, pet."

Gavin huffs, but he makes the effort to crawl up the bed before collapsing next to Nines. There are only two reasons he could possibly tolerate staying awake right now: more sex or food. He cracks an eye open and considers how likely Nines is to offer either.

"You were very good." Nines pets over him, encouraging him to flop over on his back. "I meant what I said. I do intend to keep you."

Gavin knows Nines can't see him, but his ice-blue eyes seem to see more of him than anyone. He likes how protective the vampire is of his humans, how some compulsion might have slipped out but he never forced him, and yeah—Richard "Nines" Arkai being the baddest, scariest motherfucker on this continent is a huge plus to his wolf brain.

"Prove it," Gavin drawls.

He cranes his head to the side, exposing his neck to the vampire. Nines slowly dips down and sets his fangs against the tendons, even allowing Gavin to grip the back of his neck in turn as security.

Nines leaves a claiming bite on both sides, then fulfills his promise down his chest to his nipples, lapping and nipping until they're swollen and puffy past his chest hair. He holds up his wrists in benediction and receives a claim each on those and then on the inside of each thigh as well.

At the end of it, he's boneless and submissive, dick drooling lazily onto his stomach underneath his owner.

"My darling pet," Nines murmurs.

His fingertips gently skate over Gavin's dick, up to the head where he's steadily leaking. Gavin groans and tries to rut into it, but a sharp tsk stills his hips. Nines draws gentle circles around the very tip of him peeking out past the foreskin until Gavin is panting and whimpering.

"Perhaps if you continue to show good behavior, I will train you to mount me."

He groans like he's been stabbed. A knife would be kinder than telling him that now, when he's hungry and exhausted. Nines only smirks fondly down at him and lifts his fingers to his mouth to taste Gavin there too.

Gavin reaches for him, and Nines allows an open-mouth kiss, the wolf's cum and blood mixing on their tongues.

"Decadent," Nines whispers against his lips.

Gavin pushes his luck, because he always does. He sets his hands on Nines's shoulders and rolls them over. The vampire allows it, but he can feel how his body turns stiff and stops bothering to breathe. Gavin arranges them on their sides though instead of trying to get on top, and Nines relaxes a little until he pulls the other back flush against him, dick slotting between his thighs.

"Easy, baby," he soothes. "Just rest. I'm right here and yours when you want me again."

"I do not need to sleep," Nines tries to tell him.

Gavin snorts into his shoulder blades. There isn't anyone alive or dead who needs a blowjob and a nap more than the man in his arms.

"Meditate then. I'm sleep."

He yawns over whatever protest Nines tries to give back, then pushes his sleepiness across their bond. Nines somehow manages to lock up even more for a second as he realizes that—duh—a bond works both ways.

(Gavin gets the distinct feeling that the only person who has ever managed to compel Nines before has been his mother.)

(Neither of them want to think about his mother right now.)

"Go the fuck t'sleep," he mutters.

Nines finally relaxes with a pouty huff. Gavin rubs circles over his ass and thigh, wriggling his other arm around underneath to slip up his shirt and cup a titty.

"When we wake up, I'm making you mine next, princess," Gavin promises him.

Nines shivers in his arms and doesn't protest. Gavin licks the back of his neck to scent mark him, then buries his nose in his hair to have some very sweet dreams as inspiration for the morning.

**Author's Note:**

> this was a commission, so thank you and shout out to EmberSHX over at tumblr! you can also yell at me on tumblr at phcking-detective.tumblr.com~


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